Single Servings
by barneyrockz
Summary: Elizabeth always enjoys making temporary friends on airplanes, but when her only option for conversation is a perpetually scowling businessman, she may find that her 'single serving friend' is more permanent than she thought. One-Shot


Inside the San Jose International Airport, Elizabeth Bennet sat looking around her. She always enjoyed people watching. Casting her glance around, she saw several missionary groups, some student groups and many smiling families. Bored, she shifted her gaze to her right and spotted a man in an expensive and clean business suit. He was tall, even sitting, and had a head of neat black hair. Elizabeth supposed that he could have been considered handsome, were it not for the perpetual scowl on his face. As she examined him, the call for first class boarding came. She waited for him to get up, but he made no movement, save to scowl even deeper.

A few minutes later, Elizabeth's seat was called and she was one of the first to arrive at the desk. She made her way to her seat somewhere in the back of the plane, grabbing her customs sheet as she went. Elizabeth had gotten the window seat so she sat there, albeit somewhat reluctantly, and began filling out the information, looking up every so often for her seatmates.

She had just finished signing her name when she looked up to see the scowling business man pause at her row to put up his bag in the overhead bin. He gave her a passing glance before sending a look of derision at the center seat.

"We can trade if you want," Elizabeth said. The man froze and looked up at her.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Would you prefer the window seat? I wouldn't mind trading." He blinked a few times in response to this.

"If you're sure," he said skeptically. Elizabeth was up out of her seat before he had finished. She was _very_ happy to trade. She doubted very much that he'd make a very talkative neighbor and she hoped she'd have better luck with the person in the aisle seat.

The business man sat in the window seat, his scowl still lost in his expression of confusion. Elizabeth sat next to him but didn't offer another word. After a moment the business man broke from his trance and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, his scowl returning.

The final member of their row arrived. She was a woman in her forties with a European look about her. The woman sat and placed her customs sheet in the seat back pocket. Elizabeth smiled a friendly smile and greeted her. The woman looked over at her with no signs of recognition in her eyes.

"Do you speak English?" Elizabeth asked. The European woman shook her head. "Español?"

"Nein," the woman replied. Elizabeth sighed and turned away. It was going to be a long flight. Five hours and no one to talk to. It was going to be a _very_ long flight.

"Do you mind," came a voice to her left. Elizabeth started, having forgotten about the business man. She looked over at him confused, until she saw his blank customs sheet. Wordlessly she handed him her pen. He nodded his thanks. Elizabeth looked dejectedly out the window as the plane began to taxi. Perhaps she should have kept the window seat after all. Without realizing it, she sighed.

"Is there a problem?" the man asked, looking up from his paper.

"I don't speak German." Elizabeth shrugged. Both looked over at the European woman who had pulled out a book and was currently inserting headphones.

"Would you like to switch back?" the business man asked after a minute.

"No thanks," Elizabeth said, though a little surprised at the gesture. "I usually prefer the middle seat anyway."

"No one prefers the middle seat," he told her condescendingly. Elizabeth held back a frown.

"I do," she replied. He looked at her strangely again before returning to the last pieces of his customs sheet. He signed his name fluidly at the bottom of the paper and handed the pen back.

"Thank you," he said.

"Sure," was her instinctual reply. The business man scowled out the window, watching the track go by in the twilight. Several minutes went by with their focus on the window.

"I hate flying," he muttered quietly. Elizabeth almost wondered if she was supposed to hear him at all.

"It's not so bad."

"Says the woman who prefers middle seats." Elizabeth blinked back her surprise. She had taken his first comment on this to be insult, but this almost seemed like banter.

"I like to meet people. What better way to do that than to be trapped next to them? They can't escape and we have several hours to kill."

"Then what? People in airplane go all over the world. Do you have a plethora of long distance friends?" He was skeptical. Elizabeth felt that he wasn't the most social of people, which made her wonder why he was talking to her at all.

"I don't keep in touch. They're single servings." He let out something between a snort and a scoff in response. Elizabeth again found it a bit insulting.

"Single servings?" he replied in disbelief.

"Yep. Meet them once on a plane and talk for a few hours. Once you step off the plane you never see each other again. Single servings." The man next to her let out something akin to a laugh.

"_Never_ again?"

"There is something like six point eight _billion_ people in the world. The chances are slim." He consented this to be true.

"Besides," she continued, "people talk on planes because they have nothing better to do, but outside a plane those same people might never speak to you again, even if you did meet."

"But don't you want to see them again?"

"No, that's the entire point. All the time I can make new friends without having to worry about remembering birthdays or buy Christmas presents. I can learn all sorts of things without ever talking to them again." She paused. "I just like meeting new people."

"You really _do_ like the middle seat," he said almost wonderingly. Elizabeth laughed.

"Yeah."

"I usually travel first class, but this was the only available seat or, rather, that was," he said gesturing to her seat.

"I don't understand why people hate middle seats."

"Maybe they just don't want to talk?"

"Some flights are better than others I'll admit."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she said shooting a quick glance back at the European, "the company varies. Sometimes I get people who don't want to talk and spend their time plugged into I-pods or reading."

"Then what do you do?" Elizabeth looked over at him and thought she saw amusement in his eyes.

"I don't know. Stare into space?"

"What about reading or plugging yourself into an I-pod?" He was doing it again. He was taking what she said and using it. Either he was mocking her or attempting a playful banter. She still wasn't sure. Neither option fit with her original sketch of his character.

"Reading gives me headaches and my I-pod has a short battery life. I never remember to charge it." He began to turn away and Elizabeth was desperate to keep the conversation going. She had gotten him to a point where he was pleasant. And there was nothing for her to do once he moved on to another occupation. Her I-pod was dead, as usual.

"Did you enjoy Costa Rica?" she asked him quickly. It was the first question she thought of.

"I didn't see much. I was here for business."

"How long?"

"Two weeks." He paused and shot her a glance. "How about you?" Elizabeth almost sighed with relief. She had feared that he wouldn't make any attempt to further the conversation.

"Six months."

"Really? What for?" Elizabeth relaxed. This was more of the plane conversation she was used to. She had never told anyone about her love of single serving friends before. No one had ever asked her before, she supposed.

"My sister is a freelance photographer working down here currently. Right now she's taking pictures for a nature magazine. She offered me free room and board so I figured I should come down here while the offer lasted."

They talked more about photography and Elizabeth learned that he had a sixteen year old sister also interested in the field. From there they were lead into the topic of family (in which Elizabeth had the most to say considering her family was much larger than his) and then somehow they got on the topic of romantic interests.

It began like this. Elizabeth had just finished recounting a humorous tale of her younger sister Kitty when the man (they had still not traded names) suddenly asked a question that seemed to have no relevance to the story.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Elizabeth started violently and nearly choked on her water.

"Where did that come from?" she sputtered.

"Just asking. You've told me all about your sisters and parents but never mentioned a significant other. I figured you have one…" he trailed off and looked at her expectantly.

"Nope. Just before I left I dumped the ass I was dating. He thought I didn't know he was cheating on me." The man looked at her in an almost calculating way. "What about you?" she asked, partly to remove the awkwardness from the conversation. "Any girlfriends? Or boyfriends for that matter?" It was his turn to choke on his beverage. Elizabeth started giggling as he snorted in his coffee and hit his back a few times.

"No! No girlfriends and definitely _no_ boyfriends."

"Surly there's someone."

"The closest thing I have is, unfortunately, my cousin Anne." Elizabeth made a face and he speed on hastily. "My aunt has lost most of her marbles. She is absolutely certain that Anne and I were made for each other, regardless that we are _first_ cousins and it would be illegal in many states." Elizabeth's face of near disgust melted into one of humor.

"Move to Virginia and you're good to go." He laughed along with her and the conversation moved from there.

Sometime later Elizabeth glanced at her watch and started. There was less than twenty minutes of the flight left. Though she always passed the time quickly with her single serve friends, this time it had hardly seemed as though the flight had gone long at all. In fact, she was almost sad to see that it was almost over. She had been having an extraordinarily good time with the business man, whom she found to be smiling more often than scowling now. Elizabeth unbuckled herself.

"Where are you going?" His voice was almost desperate. Elizabeth shrugged in a careless manner.

"The bathroom. We only have twenty minutes." He started as she had done. Elizabeth got up and smiled at the European lady as she passed.

On her way back from the restroom, she saw the man she had just spent the last five hours talking to. Before she had seen him as a man who _might_ be handsome, but now, especially after knowing him better, she thought him exceedingly so. Even from the back he caused her heart to flutter on sight. Elizabeth almost considered breaking her single serving rule and ask for his number. Or e-mail address. Or even regular address. Heck, at this point she'd settle for being facebook friends.

He was drumming his fingers on his tray table, much to the displeasure of some of the other passengers who were attempting to find a comfortable position to sleep in the last few minutes. Not that they would. It was nearly impossible to sleep comfortably on a plane.

Elizabeth sat and turned back to the man. He seemed nervous or uncomfortable at the very least. When Elizabeth smiled at him he grew a bit more at ease. The flight attendant came by with the trash and Elizabeth looked for her napkin only to find it wasn't there.

"I took care of it," said the man looking nervous again. She thanked him and he calmed.

The plane began its descent and the man sought out her hand as the angle grew steeper. Elizabeth looked down at their intertwined hands and raised an eyebrow.

"I really _hate_ flying," he replied to her silent question. Elizabeth nodded and offered him a comforting smile, making no attempt to free her hand. Though never one to fear flying, the warmth of his hand comforted her in a way she hadn't felt before.

They hit the ground with a rougher than usual bump. They slowly lost speed and began to make their way to the terminal. The man sighed, but didn't take his hand away something for which Elizabeth was grateful.

"Welcome to Denver," she told him. He shot her a look. "If I don't say it first, someone else will." He simply rolled his eyes at her.

The intercom was turned on and the pilot announced the time and temperature of Denver as well as a few reminders. "Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Denver," the announcement went on, causing Elizabeth to smirk at the man and him to roll his eyes once more.

The plane arrived and all too soon people were getting up and exiting. Elizabeth stepped out into the aisle and found the man behind her. They continued in silence, which both saddened and relieved Elizabeth. She knew she'd never see him again, but each time she thought that there was an aching pain in her heart. Just as she stepping off the plane she thought she felt some pressure in her jacket pocket, but discounted it.

She lost the man somewhere between customs and the baggage claim. She had an immediate connecting flight so she shook her thoughts of regret away and found her gate. They were already boarding when she got there. This time Elizabeth found herself with an aisle seat near the front, but she wasn't really interested in making a new single serving friend. She stuck her hands in her pockets and was surprised to find something in one. She pulled out a square napkin with the airline name on it. Flipping it over she spotted words in a distinctive male handwriting.

_A single serving isn't much, not even enough to fill you up. And besides, you can never have too much of a good thing._

Below this there was a phone number printed. Elizabeth smirked.

"Excuse me," a voice from the aisle said. Elizabeth looked up to see a somewhat attractive man in his early thirties. "Would you mind terribly switching seats with my wife? She has a middle seat which I know is a lot to ask…"

"I'd love to," Elizabeth cut him off, standing and trading seats. To her left this time was a sixteen year old who was listening to heavy metal music and not likely to be talkative. Her other neighbor had not arrived.

Elizabeth bent down to pull her cell phone out of her carryon when she felt someone sit beside her. The napkin was still clenched in her hand and she decided to greet the person next to her before calling. She looked up and found herself staring into the wide and shocked eyes of her former single serving friend.

"Hey," he said with a nervous smile tinged with the smallest degree of hope.

"Hey," she replied enthusiastically. "What a coincidence. I was just about to call you."


End file.
